


He Walks Alone

by a_flowered_vase



Category: Hadestown - Mitchell
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, I wrote this forever ago, do whatever???, hermes is trying his best, orpheus is one sad boi :(, so yeet, the fates are sometimes nice and sometimes mean, theres some kinda drug ig, they just
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:34:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21844516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_flowered_vase/pseuds/a_flowered_vase
Summary: “Do you let me walk with you?”<I'm asking you to marry me. Say "I do.">《She belongs to him.》Eurydice stared at him through water-ladden lashes. “I do.”<Say it isn't true!>< I do. >“I do,” Orpheus repeated softly.His wife inclined her head. “And keep on walking, come what will?”He took a shuddering breath. “I will.”“I will.” She nodded, before glancing at Hades.“We will,” they said in unison.
Relationships: Eurydice & Hermes (Hadestown), Eurydice/Orpheus (Hadestown), Hades/Persephone (Hadestown), Hermes & Orpheus (Hadestown)
Kudos: 6





	He Walks Alone

**Author's Note:**

> So, < **this** > is buddy boy Orpheus (past)  
> < this> is Eurydice  
> 《 _This_ 》 is Lachesis  
> 《 **This** 》 is Clotho  
> 《This》 is Atropos  
> (This) is just ye old past, thinking, etc etc  
>  _This_ is thinking (contex) or dialogue (context), because "this" is also dialogue, so i hope you understand??  
> 

Orpheus had always believed the world to be better than it actually was. And his stupid gift was that he could influence others to feel the same.

But that was of no help in the Underworld. The miners were deaf and the diggers too tired. He couldn’t even get close to the people working on the wall before heavy mist clouded his vision. He could only sing and pray his voice carried.

So Orpheus strummed his guitar—a tacky, old thing—and let his voice boom throughout Hadestown. Workers turned with deadened eyes and children peaked from dusty houses.

The Styx loomed above him. Orpheus was sure he heard distant wailing emanating from it—an echo of the losses it had heard. He shuddered but his voice remained steady.

He walked in the direction of Hadestown’s richest city: Elysium. He swallowed, voice coming to a sputtering stop. The workers disappointedly returned to their work.

Orpheus slung his guitar over his shoulder and strode through the gates with all the purpose he could muster. The guards must have heard him singing—they let him through without an ounce of hesitation. Orpheus walked shakily to the castle of precious stones.

What had he come for again?

He walked up the steps as quickly as he could. His instrument thumped his back with each step. The guards at the spanning doors barred his entrance. A quick ditty changed their minds and lifted their weapons.

Inside the castle, anxiety struck him fully. His stomach rolled and his throat dried. He coughed and leaned against a golden wall. He immediately jumped away, the fear of contaminating it driving him forward and through the bright halls. His instrument remained a reassuring weight against his back.

He grew more and more antsy the closer he got to the castle’s pulsing center—the throne room. The halls widened and glittered with speckles of diamonds and sterling.

Once the door of gold was in front of him, he froze, hands centimeters away from pushing it open. Why was he trying to speak to the king?

《Eurydice 》, sang a soft voice in the back of his head.

Who is she? he asked himself.

《 **The girl who makes you wanna sing** ,》 the voice offered. 《 **The girl you’re marrying.** 》

_ Eurydice _ , he thought before letting his hand continue forward, the door gliding open with ease.

The king in the throne wore a malic-

He was smiling.  _ Orpheus _ . His vibrato shook his bones and nearly knocked him over.

He thought on the name as the king jovially explained how deceiving women could be. How they slipped away when you needed them most. How chaining her with sterling bracelets, weighing her down with precious stones, and binding her with a golden band would keep her with you.

<Who’s gonna buy the wedding bands?>

_ I don’t know _ , he mumbled.

The king looked murder-

He was frowning with pity.  _ I was young once too, but women leave again and again, take it from an old man. But now, now I sing the music of machinery. A dependable tune—you’d know. It’s become the symphony of Hadestown. I’ve strung this world with wire as you played for an unappreciative girl. You wanna play your penniless tunes, but what have I done?  _ The king rose suddenly, his tall frame casting a long shadow.  _ I conduct this electric city! _

And like a nightmarish play, lightning cracked the sky, illuminating the near identical houses of Asphodel. All them were cramped and small, connected by thick, interwoven wires. It was like a bad game of cat’s cradle. One that was never meant to be solved.

He recoiled as the king sat, smile back in place.  _ I’ll tell you what, young man. Sing a song for me before I send you out to the great beyond.  _ Nobody _ can hear you there. _

Dread coiled in his gut. The Fields.

_ Sing.  _ A dipped head.  _ For an old man. _

He licked his lips, cradling his instrument close to his chest. He parted cracked and dry lips. Nothing came out and his fingers were locked in place. His eyes darted around the room, landing on a girl crouched near the throne, obscured by shadows.

< **The girl who makes me wanna sing!** >

And he sang, his timid voice drowning in the expanse of gold walls. The king’s gaze of steel remained fixed on him.

He tried desperately to recall anything he could on the love of the king and his queen. Hades and Persephone. A nature loving girl and a money driven man. And Eurydice, the girl hiding by the throne, the girl who made him wanna sing, the girl stronger than him, the girl who wanted to be harbored from the wind.

Eurydice and Orpheus.  _ Him _ .

His voice rose as he began to understand Hades. He’d been a boy with little to give in love with a girl who wanted nothing at all, despite his desire to give her all of it. I’ll give you the world! Orpheus imagined him saying, a smile brighter than Hadestown lighting up his face. Maybe she’d politely declined, saying she didn’t need that at all. Just him.

(Maybe he took that too personally. Maybe he assumed she thought he could never do that. Maybe he had to prove himself.)

Orpheus was just the opposite of that, wasn’t he? He had nothing to give to a girl who wanted the world. And he couldn’t give her that. (He had to prove himself.) But he could see and hear and feel the love Hades had for Persephone, however ‘buried’ it was.

It must’ve struck a chord with Hades, because as his voice dwindled to a soft chorus, Hades clumsily mumbled along. Orpheus felt a swell of hope as he finished in unison with the ruler of Hadestown.

It might’ve been his hopeful mind, but he was almost positive that Hades looked torn.

《He might let you go ,》 the voice chimed.

Orpheus bounced on the balls of his feet as the silence dragged on. He frowned as he noticed Hades’ eyes bouncing around the room. Orpheus followed them and noticed the great heroes of Hadestown had gathered in the room, murmuring amongst themselves. He looked back to Hades.

It was a lose-lose situation, Orpheus realized. He lets us go, he's a spineless king. He tells me no and he's a heartless man. Damned if he did or didn't with the eyes of his people watching him.

Orpheus nervously pulled at his guitar. He'd sung a song of hearts and love for Hadestown. How he loved Eurydice and Hades loved Persephone. Hades had a heart, it had just been turned to a piece of machinery—iron and steel.

And it loved its people, but in the wrong way.

Hades eventually leaned back in his throne. “Devil take you and your belladonna kiss.”

Emotion twisted his heart and Orpheus straightened, turning to Eurydice with a beam. She had tears on her face and was sagging against the throne of gold.

“One condition, however,” Hades loudly interrupted. Now that Orpheus’ mind seemed to be in working order, he could decipher a sneer on the faux-king's face. “Orpheus, you shall not turn to look behind. She's to walk behind and if you are to turn around—” he snapped his fingers, gold dust drifting down—“she’ll stay in Hadestown. And you, Canary.” He paused, scrutinizing Eurydice as she rose shakily. “Remain silent as the night, no louder. Your foot falls will be like make-believe ideas.

“Don't stop walking, for if you do, my men will fall upon you. Quiet and moving. Or you'll be left without a wife, boy.”

Orpheus frowned as he mulled over the conditions, but a look at Eurydice—silently confident, unwavering—wiped his suspicions away in one motion. He stepped toward her.

“Do you let me walk with you?”

< **I'm asking you to marry me. Say “I do.”** >

《 _ She belongs to him. _ 》

Eurydice stared at him through water-ladden lashes. “I do.”

< **Say it isn't true!** >

<I do.>

“I do,” Orpheus repeated softly.

His wife inclined her head. “And keep on walking, come what will?”

He took a shuddering breath. “I will.”

“I will.” She nodded, before glancing at Hades.

“We will,” they said in unison.

Hades narrowed his eyes at Orpheus, who shuffled nervously, before waving them off. The heroes were muttering again as Orpheus grabbed Eurydice's hand and squeezed. It struck him how much he missed her.

He took her in as he let her go. Deep bags sat under exhausted eyes. Her skin was a pale brown, indicative of a lack of sun. Her hair fell limply on her shoulders. She was beautiful.

He slowly turned, chanting in his mind that he'd see her again. Right behind you, he told himself. Not in Hadestown, behind  _ you _ .

Orpheus raised his head and strode past the heroes of old, their names a distant ring in his memory. They murmured louder as he shouldered through. Flashes of gold and bronze and silver caught his eye—a gold apple held in the hand of an athletic woman; a man with welding goggles holding a bronze invention; a man whose skin was painted a glittering silver, save for a spot near his heel.

A hand shot out, seizing his sleeve. It was a little boy, metal wings on his back, held by dripping wax. “Hopefully a spineless king,” he whispered, his hand already retreating. And he vanished into the throng of people like a mirage, leaving behind only the smell of smoke and salt.

Orpheus gave the crowd a hesitant smile. Eyebrows were lifted in mild amusement and hands waved in farewell. The doors of gold and gems swung open.

The streets of Hadestown were bright, lined with row after row of artificial lights. Orpheus squinted against them as he walked briskly down the metallic steps of Hades’ castle.

Elysium was beautiful, ethereal even, Orpheus assumed, if you weren't cognizant to the man who ran it all. Sure, Orpheus was finally getting a firmer understanding of the man, but that erased none of the horrors he'd seen in the Fields or Asphodel. But a sort of enchantment still ensnared him to a degree.

He pondered the kingdom as he walked, his footsteps sharp in his ears. Only one set. Eurydice.

He stumbled.

Footsteps. Who?

His body took on a tremble, a burning desire to turn around whipping in his gut and scorching his heart.

《Don't do it,》  a distant voice in his head pleaded.

Why not?

《——— **right there, don't look at** ———!》

Who?

《——— !》

The name was drowned out by static and numbness. But he heeded the warnings and tumbled forward. Paranoia increased his tremors.

《 _ He  _ lied _ to you. _ 》

Who?

< **Keep walking** > <(come what will).>

A blurry face fluttered about in his view. It was all brown curls and sunshine grins. A vague idea of confidence sparked down his spine, straightening it as it went. The image vanished and his shoulders slumped, nearly sending him sprawling. He almost expected a small hand to come to a rest on his back, for a voice, tiny but true, to ask “are you alright?”

But no comfort came. Only a cold chill that whispered deceit. He breathed erratically as the Wall came into his vision. It was tall and imposing, releasing shrieks and cries that sounded too loudly for his ears.

His knees buckled, and he collapsed against the bricks. Something flaked off the wall in tiny pieces of dust. He glanced up, fighting pain and nausea.

It was the king, his pale face austere. A palmful of gold sat in his outstretched hand and his expensive suit was crisp. His lower body fizzled into old paint and mist. Cocking his head, he realized there were faint words too—

「 The Wall will set us free.」

The bricks dug into his side and into his hands as he pushed himself off. Clouds plumed in front of him as he exhaled.

《 ** _Turn around_** ** _,_** 》 two pairs of voices hissed. 《 ** _He lied to you, foolish boy._** ——— ** _isn't there. Not behind you. Never was!_** 》

The words were like fingers ripping apart his brain, rubbing lemon and wine into the wounds created. He was weak and frail, bones like brittle leaves in the winter.

His heart was beating too fast, his vision was too splotchy, his skin was too tight. A sky of dazzling stars cartwheeled across his eyes. But there was no night time in this kingdom, was there? Only warm lights that chased away the cold.

His face burned like a candle. The air was too cold. The workers, the Wall, the heroes, they were all too loud. There was a ringing in his ear. A chanting name.

《 _ Turn back, fool, _ 》 his mind seethed. 《 **It'll all stop if you just turn back** _. _ 》

But someone told him against that. A bad idea, he could recall. Who?

His focused on a cave near the end of the Wall. He just had to get there, right? Then he could turn around, then he could  _ see _ .

What comes after?

The voices in his head didn't answer.

He kept moving, like it was his only duty. And, really, it was. Despite creaking bones, scalding skin, desperate breaths—walking was all he had to do. He was getting closer. He was nearly gone.

《Turn around,》 < Orpheus .>

He froze, foot catching mid air and breath lodging in his lungs. A scream crescendoed as he whirled around with all the desperation that replaced his air. 

His foot struck dirt soaked in warm sunlight.

There had been a girl behind him, beautiful and pale. Pale pale pale. She was gasping, eyes saucer-wide as her thin hands gripped her dress.

_ Eurydice. _

In a flash, a man was at her side, scooping her up and whisking her away. Away from him. Hadestown.

_ If you are to turn around, she'll stay in Hadestown _ .

**_Eurydice._ **

He sunk to his knees, the contents of his stomach lurching to meet his heart in his throat.

“You're early!” Eurydice cried, hands reaching.

His arms were lead. “I missed you,” he sobbed.

Hermes didn't look back, ignoring Eurydice's pleas to stay. Tears ran rampant and his breaths were despairing. He sat, forlorn, at the entrance of the abandoned railroad track, until Hermes came back, gently leading him a grove. A basket and blanket lay on the ground.

**_E͜u҉̵̴̧r̨͡͞y͘͠d̷̛͜͢į̶̢҉c̷̨e̸̴̡_ **

He wept.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this so long ago. Wow. Bad. Still!! I hope you at least somewhat enjoyed :)
> 
> Might post the other points of views if y'all want for whatever reason. (I have Eurydice, Hades, and maybe Persephone and Hermes.)
> 
> [Note, Clotho is the spinner sometimes attributed to the present, Atropos is past and "the unturnable" ie the one who cuts the string, and Lachesis is the future and the alloter.]


End file.
